


Saltatory Conduction

by idolatry



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Gen, Minor Character Death, this fic is sad
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-15
Updated: 2014-12-15
Packaged: 2018-03-01 14:52:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,387
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2777195
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/idolatry/pseuds/idolatry
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Hinata's mom is sick.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Saltatory Conduction

“Alright,” Ukai Keishin mutters, standing and frowning hard.  Takeda Ittetsu startles and watches him as he claps his hands together twice and calls out, “Alright!  Clear the gym, hit the showers.  We’ll see you in the morning.”  The boys are a little startled — practice doesn’t usually end for another twenty minutes — but shout their thanks and goodnights with the usual level of enthusiasm, then scurry to collect the loose volleyballs.  As Kageyama runs by, however, Ukai taps his arm.  “When you’re done, can we chat a minute?”

Kageyama raises his eyebrows but smoothly says, “Of course.”

Takeda looks for and finds Hinata, who is helping Azumane take down the net.  “Maybe he’s just… worried about school,” he says, partly to Ukai, though he isn’t sure the other man is listening.

“Mmm,” Ukai responds.

“And you think Kageyama knows what’s going on?”

“Mm-hmm.”

“I’m relieved,” Takeda says, smiling faintly.  “It isn’t clear to me how they became such good friends, but I’m glad they have.  I think they need each other, like waves need wind.”

“Poetry again, sensei,” Ukai chides him, but Takeda doesn’t mind it.  He knows without looking that Ukai’s frown is gone.  “Anyhow, it’s gonna help us get the team back on track, which is all I’m concerned about.”

_Right_ , Takeda thinks with a smile and a sly glance to his left.  _Because you can’t be a tough coach and a caring mentor at the same time._ Then he catches sight of Hinata leaving the gym in his day clothes, though the other boys are still in the showers, from the sound of it.  He thinks about going after him, but Ukai is right.  An indirect first approach is better.

Kageyama jogs up to them five minutes later, his hair damp and a towel around his neck.  “Coach?”

“Kageyama.  You want to tell me what was going on out there today?”

The boy blinks at him, but he doesn’t look genuinely puzzled to Takeda’s practiced eye.  He looks like he’s about to tell a teacher he had no idea he had homework, though the partially complete worksheets are lying in his bag.  “With Hinata-kun,” Takeda clarifies, and when Kageyama meets his eyes, he seems to deflate a little.

“Right,” he says, and looks down at his hands.  “What do you mean, exactly?  He’s just having an off day.”

“More like an off week,” Ukai says, scowling.  “What is going on with him?  Is it trouble in class?  Is somebody at school messing with him?  Has he been eating?  Are his parents —”

“Ukai-kun!” Takeda interjects, because Kageyama has gone strangely pale.

“No… nothing like that,” he tells his coach, though he looks unsure.  _Idiot!_ Takeda wants to shout at Ukai.  _These boys aren’t bright!  He’s probably wondering now if anything like that_ is _going on and he hadn’t noticed!_

“Then what is it, Kageyama?” Ukai says, gentler.  “Is it something we can help with?”

Kageyama looks away from them.  “Why do you think I know?”

“Don’t you?” Takeda says when Ukai doesn’t answer.  “You two … you’re very close, despite your rocky beginnings…”

“It’s because you didn’t yell at him,” Ukai says simply, displaying his palms, and Kageyama turns to stare at him.

“What?”

“He missed four of your tosses today — and I mean _he missed them_ , Kageyama.  Don’t make that face. They weren’t your fault.  His mind was somewhere else and he spiked air.  And instead of, y’know, screaming at him like you usually do when he messes up, you apologized.  I dunno if anyone else on the team noticed… well, Sugawara maybe… but those weren’t bad sets.  He just wasn’t playing at his usual level.  Don’t try to deny it, because it’s been happening all week and I’m worried because he’s getting worse.”

Takeda glances down at Kageyama’s hands, which have balled into fists, and feels his heart break a little.  _These two really like playing volleyball together, and what Ukai’s saying is making him think he’ll pull Hinata from the court._   He glances again at Ukai, who is staring firmly right back at Kageyama.

Takeda wonders if he should explain to the coach what the player is probably thinking.  “Ukai—”

“You’re right.”

Kageyama’s fists loosen, and he looks tired, and sad.  “His mom’s in the hospital.  She’s been sick for a long time but now she has to stay in the hospital because she can’t breathe well on her own.  It’s, uh.  Um.”  He stops, breathes deeply through his nose, blinks rapidly, and continues.  “It’s some muscle disease, but with lung problems.”  He breathes in through his nose again, which is slightly red.  “She.  Uh, um.  She’s not okay.”

Ukai says nothing for a moment.  Takeda strives against the sudden burning in his eyes.  He can’t cry in front of a student.  _I’m the adult, here_ , he chastises himself, and asks, much more steadily than he feels, “How has Hinata-kun been handling this change?”

Kageyama grimaces.  “He says he’s fine, of course, because he wants to show her he’s strong.  So he takes care of his sister when he’s not in school and they visit their mom in hospital every night so of course his homework is almost never done right because by the time he gets Natsu — that’s his sister — back home it’s late because they live so far out of town and he’s an idiot anyway —”

“Okay, okay, thank you, Kageyama,” Ukai says quietly, and Kageyama stops babbling.  Ukai looks at Takeda in distress, but Takeda doesn’t know what to say either.

“Please don’t take him off the court, though,” Kageyama whispers.  His head is bowed.  “I think… I think that’s the only place he can be himself right now.  So please let him play.”  He suddenly whips his head up, and there is fire in his eyes, not tears.  “I’ll work with him.  I’ll talk to him.  We can get him back up to the right level, just give us—”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Ukai says, and pats Kageyama on the shoulder.  Takeda smiles at the boy when he looks to him for guidance.  “Since it’s something like that, he probably just needs more time in the evenings.  I’ll tell him to ease off in afternoon practices.  He can cut out halfway through so he’s not so tired —”

“No!” Kageyama barks, and bites his lip.  “Sorry, I’m sorry, Coach.  I didn’t mean to yell.”

Ukai is silent for a moment, watching him.  Then, from the hallway leading to the showers, Sawamura says, “Please excuse us for eavesdropping.”  Takeda can’t help but feel relieved.  Ukai frowns but nods.

“You heard everything, Captain?” he asks.

Sawamura glances at Sugawara who is with him and says, “Yeah.”

“What do you think?”

Sawamura looks at Sugawara again, who shakes his head.  “I think we should do as Kageyama is implying, and give Hinata a chance to do everything he needs to be doing.  He’s strong.”

“But…” Takeda says, and shivers a little when all three players gaze at him determinedly.  “There’s a cost to stretching oneself too thin.  We’re seeing the effects already.  If we can see that he’s going to hurt himself, shouldn’t we do everything in our power to make sure he doesn’t?”

He sees Kageyama’s nervous face and wishes there were a way to talk about this without making him panic.  But Kageyama becomes serious again in the space of a heartbeat and nods his agreement.

“I’ll think over this tonight and we can talk about it more tomorrow,” Ukai says, and places a hand on Kageyama’s shoulder.  “Thank you for telling us.  I promise I will not make Hinata stop playing volleyball, unless it seems like it is harming his health.  Does that seem fair?”

Kageyama nods again.  “Yes.”

“Then I’ll leave you to lock up, sensei.  Good night, boys,” he says, and walks out of the gym.  _Probably needs a smoke_ , Takeda realizes, and rubs his arms.

He asks the third years, “Can I leave Kageyama in your care for now?  I have to get going as well.”  _There may be something I can do on the academic end to help Hinata.  I can send some emails out to his teachers, certainly…_

They nod vigorously.  Sawamura says, “I’ll lock the door, sensei.”

“Thank you very much.”

Once Takeda-sensei is gone, the third years glance at each other, and then Suga prompts, “We should all be heading home.”

Their kouhai rubs at his eyes and takes a deep breath.  “Daichi-senpai.”

Daichi starts, turns, and gives Kageyama his full attention.  

Kageyama is pressing a hand to his shirt front, digging his fingers into his chest like there is within it some pain or poison he can’t remove.  “Something Coach said… What if he’s not eating?  What if he’s not sleeping?  He doesn’t sleep in class anymore but I think it’s because he’s worried, not because he’s paying attention.  And now he can’t spike like he wants to.  Does Coach think _Hinata_ hasn’t noticed how bad he’s been playing?”

“Kageyama,” Daichi says, but doesn’t know what else to say.

“She’s not —” Kageyama begins but chokes, and covers his face.  “She’s not going to get better.  I talked to Hinata’s father, and the doctor.  They’re all just … waiting.  It’s horrible.  It’s really horrible.”  His hands move over his face, but his shoulders take a few seconds to stop shaking.  He inhales deeply and straightens his back.

“I have to go,” he says.

“You’re joining them at the hospital.”  Daichi is sure enough of this that it isn’t a question.

Kageyama is caught off-guard.  “Yeah.”  He frowns down at the court.  “Not that it does any good.”

“I’m sure it does Hinata a world of good,” Suga says, and grips the younger boy’s arm.  “We don’t want to intrude where we aren’t wanted.  But.  If you’d ever like company.  A word is all it takes.”

Kageyama’s mouth pinches, and Daichi is surprised and more than a little proud when he manages, “Thank you, Suga-san,” without any tears.

—

The next day, Takeda hears from Ukai that Hinata wasn’t at morning practice, and that Kageyama has a bruise on his jaw, so after classes end he walks briskly to the gym and joins the students inside.

They’re sitting in a group around Kageyama, who is also sitting but holds a volleyball in his fingertips.  He looks frozen and won’t meet anyone’s eyes.  When he sees Takeda, Sawamura says, “Hinata wasn’t at school at all today.”

“Did…” Takeda says, and searches his mind for a tactful way to ask, but he doesn’t have to.  Sugawara, with dark circles under his eyes, is already nodding, and then Kageyama says, dully, “Yeah.  She… stopped breathing.  He was right there with her.  Made me take Natsu out of the room.”

His fingers press against the ball.  All of the boys are looking away, at the floor, at their knees.  Tanaka keeps rubbing at his face and eyes, though Takeda can’t see any tears.

“What are we gonna do?” Yamaguchi asks quietly, as Takeda takes a seat not far from the group, but not part of it either.  He pulls out his phone to send some more emails to Hinata’s teachers, but it takes him a long time to type them out.  Meanwhile, the boys are murmuring amongst themselves.

“What do you mean, Yamaguchi?” says Daichi, who is closest to Kageyama and has a hand on the boy’s back.

“Well, we have to help him,” Yamaguchi says, like it’s obvious.  “This isn’t… like losing a match, or a tournament.  There is no getting stronger after something like this.  What if he… I don’t know.  Sorry.”

“Yamaguchi,” Tsukishima says, impressed.

Suga studies Yamaguchi carefully.  “You sound like you have experience with this sort of thing,” he says, and that makes Kageyama lift his head and look at his fellow first year with mournful curiosity.

Yamaguchi shakes his head and flushes.  “M-my aunt died when I was ten.  It made my mom … really sad.  But I think we can help Hinata.”

Almost imperceptibly, Tsukishima adjusts his posture until his shoulder is against Yamaguchi’s.  The other boy’s eyes grow wide, and he flushes pink again.

“What d’you suggest,” Tanaka says, sniffing.

No one says anything.  Suga thinks of how merrily loud Hinata is, and stares at Kageyama’s bruise.  Then Kageyama lifts the volleyball, touches it to his forehead, closes his eyes, and speaks.

“We can go to the neighborhood women’s volleyball team and ask them to cook for his family.  I’m gonna really pay attention in class so he has good notes.”

“I’ll help!” squeaks Yachi Hitoka, who stands in the doorway with tears standing in her eyes and tracking down her face.  “He always s-says my notes are best, so if it’s all right…”

It goes a long way to reassuring Daichi that the team will be okay to see Kageyama smile for the first time in a week.  “That is really great, Yachi-san,” he tells her, and she nods and bows to him, her eyes squeezed shut.

“And I’m gonna play volleyball with him every day,” Kageyama says resolutely, glaring at the ball in his hands.  “For as long as he wants.  Wherever he wants.”  He darts a glance at Yamaguchi and grits his teeth.  “And that — that’ll help him.  I know it will.”

“What about Natsu,” Ennoshita breathes, like her name is too painful to say.  “She’s little, isn’t she?  Who can take care of her during the day?”

“She goes to school,” Kageyama says, but bites his lip.

Ennoshita puts a hand over his face.  “But now she doesn’t have a mom… it’s too…” he says, and makes a choking noise.

“She has Hinata and her father,” Suga says.  “It isn’t the same, but… I think Natsu’s presence is going to be Hinata’s greatest strength.  He’s very strong.  He will want to be even stronger for her.”  He flinches suddenly, remembering Takeda-senpai’s caution about ‘stretching too thin’.

“Guys,” says Hinata from the doorway.

There is a collective gasp from most of the team, but before the others can react, Kageyama climbs to his feet.  Daichi watches carefully; the setter has his eyes closed and is frowning.  Hinata’s face is worryingly neutral.

Kageyama’s eyes open, and Daichi shivers.  The same sharp concentration he uses to astounding effect on the volleyball court is now focused solely on the boy in the doorway, who stands with his shoes in his hand and almost no color in his face.  Kageyama takes a deep, audible breath, and Hinata says, “Dad said I needed to be out of the house for a little bit every day.”

Then he kneels to tie on his shoes.  The team members shift around, and some stand, but most just stare at Hinata.  He does not notice.  Nor does Kageyama, who breathes again and strides to the net.  He spins the ball between his palms and waits until Hinata looks at him, and then he says, “First tempo.”

They don’t see Hinata start running.  He’s just suddenly on the court, then in the air near the net, form perfect, _eyes shut_.  The slap-thunk of the spike slamming into the court resounds in their ears.  Hinata lands, eyes still shut, and says, “One more.”

“Yes.  First tempo.”

The team is mesmerized.  Hinata sprints behind the back court line and flies again to the net and hits the king’s toss.  Daichi meets Kageyama’s eyes briefly and then begins touching everyone else on the shoulder, gesturing toward the door to the second gym, fortunately empty for the evening.  Before he follows the team out, he glances back to Kageyama again and catches his eye.  Hinata lands from another vicious spike, woodenly says, “One more,” and Kageyama nods to Daichi.

“Of course.  First tempo.”

They do the best they can in the second gym.  Daichi directs them to line up to practice serves and receives.  It’s easy and lets them carry conversations with relative ease.  Asahi bows out after a couple of rounds, heading to the locker room with a weak excuse about needing to fix his shoe and tears unsubtly smeared over his cheekbones.  Suga follows him after meeting Daichi’s eyes.  Noya watches them go with a grimace, and can’t seem to keep a ball in-bounds until they both return.  After maybe twenty minutes, Daichi decides to check on the lonely first years.  As he approaches the door he notes that the other gym is quiet, and he steels himself for what he might find.

Outside back court, Hinata is curled over his elbows and knees on the ground, his face pressing his hands onto the floor.  He is crying, though not loudly.  Kageyama is in nearly the same position right next to him, but one arm is thrown over Hinata’s back and his face is turned toward the other boy.  He can see Daichi when he opens the door, but he doesn’t acknowledge him at all.

The door leading outside is open, and Daichi can just barely make out the edge of a jacket — it’s Coach, leaning against the external wall of the gym with his hand over his face.  Takeda-sensei must have informed him, but loss like this is beyond what any of them know.

Daichi silently closes the door behind him and sits on the floor, wanting to help but not sure he should.  He is lulled by the sounds of the team practice through the walls, but the spell is broken by Hinata’s occasional gasping sobs.

“You can get up,” Kageyama says.

Coach makes a noise and moves his foot like he’s going to walk into the gym and take the position of primary caregiver away from Kageyama, but Daichi manages to catch his eye and discreetly shake his head.  Coach looks unsure, but holds still.

“I-I… I…” Hinata tries, and gives up, his voice dissolving into crying.

They sit still for another minute before Hinata calms down again.

Kageyama says, “I know you can.”

Hinata does not start crying again.  “She’ll never see,” he whispers, and only Kageyama can hear.  The other boy bites his lip, because Hinata has of course already thought the thing that his own mind keeps away from, to spare himself the pain.

“I know.”

“She won’t… g-get to see me play at nationals.  She won’t get to s-s-see me p-play _ever again_.”

“…I know.”

Hinata sobs once, and Daichi can see Kageyama’s hand clasp the shirt over his back, and then he is dragging him sideways.  Hinata slides ungracefully over the floor and lands in a tight ball against Kageyama.  He does not pull his face from his hands, but instead of pressing them to the floor he now presses them to Kageyama’s shoulder and chest.

“I don’t want to hurt like this anymore, I don’t want to go home, I just want to play volleyball,” Hinata moans.  “I can’t do this.  I can’t.”

“You can get up,” Kageyama says again, and Daichi can suddenly hear the depth of uncomplicated faith Kageyama has in Hinata coming through his tone of voice.  It hardly sounds different from his normal voice, and Daichi finds himself smiling slightly.

Hinata’s crying dies away.  Then, miraculously, he trembles and starts to unfold.

Kageyama moves with him, and together they drag and pull and unbend until they stand straight, side by side.  Hinata now grasps Kageyama’s shirt hem, and Kageyama’s shoulders have slid forward like a shield.

“See?” he says quietly to him, and Hinata meets his eyes.

“Yeah,” he says, his voice stuffy and scratchy by turns, “you were right.”  He looks at the floor beneath his feet and his eyes widen.  He huffs like laughter.  “I’m standing on the court.”

Kageyama nods firmly.  He twitches a little, then looks at Daichi.  “I’m walking him home,” he announces.  Daichi sees Hinata is about to protest, but doesn’t.  They don’t bother to go to the locker room to clean up; Kageyama just throws a sweatshirt at Hinata, who mechanically pulls it on, and they walk to the open door.  As they pass him, Coach presses his hand to Hinata’s shoulder and opens his mouth, but closes it again without speaking.  Hinata nods like he understands, and then breathes deeply.  He and Kageyama leave the gym in step.

Just before they fade into the darkness, Daichi hears Hinata say, “I’m sorry I hit you last night.”

“Shut up, dumbass,” Kageyama responds.  Daichi smiles.

**Author's Note:**

> Drawn from current real-life experiences, so actual research about the disease was not done. It's is sort of made-up, but it's like MS.
> 
> Uhm. Review or w/e.


End file.
